


cut through all this red tape

by achilleees



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Escapism, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 22:24:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1619129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achilleees/pseuds/achilleees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Raleigh wakes up later, he’s sore and sticky all over, and the bed is empty next to him. It’s not a surprise, exactly, only he kind of hoped…</p>
<p>But maybe this means Chuck got what he needed. Maybe he can heal now, without Raleigh’s dick involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cut through all this red tape

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: much use of the word 'bitch' as a pejorative, humiliation kink, kind of incesty (although it follows the logic that it's not weird as long as no one points out that it's incest, and also it's really just all about chuck)
> 
> i wrote this to make myself feel better after the canadiens beat the bruins in game 7. you don't really need to know anything about hockey to read it, though. it's vague. all you gotta know is, raleigh's team beat chuck's in a really important game.
> 
> title from Rupert Holmes' "Escape (The Pina Colada Song)" because hahahaha.

“It’s Chuck Hansen,” Yancy says.

“What?” Raleigh asks, distracted. He pulls the popcorn out of the microwave and catches sight of his reflection. He rubs his jaw. Fuck, he looks different with a beard.

“Chuck Hansen,” Yancy says. “At the door.”

“Oh,” Raleigh said, then turns. “Wait, what?”

“Hey,” Chuck Hansen says from the door.

Raleigh stares.

Chuck looks… a little wild-eyed. A little rough at the seams, like he’s hurting in some fundamental way. Like he knows what it means to be torn apart.

“Hansen…?” Raleigh says. “What are you doing here?” Belatedly, he looks around, wondering if more Bruins are going to start pouring out of the woodwork, sticks in hand. No more penalties for goaltender interference – the series is over.

But it’s just Chuck. Worn out and kind of… Ow. Just looking at those eyes hurts Raleigh’s heart.

Chuck looks at Yancy, who gets the hint and leaves the room. A moment later, Raleigh’s shitty couch springs squeak as he lands on them. And, because Yancy’s a douche, Mike Milbury’s voice starts up a minute later, lambasting the offensive output of the Bruins in those last two games.

Raleigh winces, but Chuck doesn’t react, just stares at him with those deep, dark eyes. He doesn’t look away.

“I… Do you want something to drink?” Raleigh says.

“Whatever you’re having,” Chuck says, and his voice is _rough_.

Raleigh hesitates, then takes a bottle of Gatorade out of the fridge.

“Maybe whatever he’s having,” Chuck says, tipping his head in Yancy’s direction.

Raleigh pulls out a bottle of Molson’s. “So…” he says, popping off the cap and passing it to Chuck.

“We’re not doing that, Becket,” Chuck says, and drains half the bottle in one go.

“Then…”

“We’re not doing that either,” Chuck says.

Raleigh furrows his brow, confused. “Then what are we doing?”

Chuck shrugs.

Two minutes and Raleigh’s already getting pissed off. The magic of Chuck Hansen, he thinks. “Okay…” he says, slowly.

Chuck looks at him intently. It’s like he expects Raleigh to know what he’s thinking, what he wants, only he’s _completely insane_ so Raleigh hasn’t got a damn clue.

“Look, dude,” Raleigh sighs. “It’s been a long day for me too, and that game was fucking stressful, so –”

At that, Chuck growls – and Raleigh winces again, because yeah, that was kind of a dick thing to say. But he can’t apologize, because in a second, Chuck has crossed the room and Raleigh’s mouth is occupied by somebody else’s tongue.

“ _Mmph_ ,” Raleigh says, and then Chuck bites him, rough and hard, right on his mouth. “Ow, fuck, Hansen,” he says, pulling off. “Could you not?”

Chuck glares. He yanks Raleigh back in with hands fisted in his collar, eating at his mouth, furious and hungry and full of teeth. And, like, okay. Yeah, okay, Raleigh’s got a boner now, and it’s not just from adrenaline.

Chuck pulls off. “Seriously, mate, at least try’n keep up?”

Raleigh narrows his eyes, because in no universe is it his failing that he doesn’t really get how to react when his rival team’s captain and star scorer shows up at his house after Raleigh shut him out in Game 7 of the Eastern Conference Semifinals, stares at him, and kisses him on the mouth while his brother is watching the game highlights in the next room over.

Chuck kisses him again before he can point that out. Only kissing is not really the word for it – though Raleigh isn’t sure there _is_ a word for this, this violent, sexual act, this complete rewriting of everything that should, and normally does, turn Raleigh on. Teeth shouldn’t be so sexy. It shouldn’t turn him on this much, to hurt.

“Ow!’ he says again as Chuck shoves his hand down Raleigh’s pants and grips his cock in too-tight fingers. He tugs at Chuck’s wrist. “Look, can we slow down here a bit?”

Chuck growls and just kisses harder, wrapping his fingers around Raleigh’s dick even tighter. Raleigh stops tugging, only because he’s a little worried Chuck’s gonna rip the damn thing off if he keeps it up.

“The fuck, Hansen –” Raleigh says.

“He doesn’t get it,” Yancy says, from the doorway.

Raleigh jerks up, wide-eyed, but Chuck doesn’t give any reaction at all except to slide his lips down and bite Raleigh’s neck, hard enough to leave a mark.

Raleigh yelps. “Fuck, Hansen, can you just –”

“He doesn’t _get_ it, Hansen,” Yancy says, and comes up behind Chuck, putting a hand on the scruff of his neck and yanking him back, hard enough that Raleigh winces in sympathy. But Chuck goes willingly, panting, bright-eyed.

“I don’t get what?” Raleigh says.

“See?” Yancy says.

Chuck gives this whine, and Raleigh looks back and sees that Yancy’s grip is tight enough to dig crescents with his nails in the back of Chuck’s neck.

“You’re hurting him!” Raleigh says, stepping forward and reaching up to help.

“You wanna blow him? Is that it?” Yancy asks Chuck, shaking him so hard Raleigh hears his teeth rattle.

Chuck shakes his head.

“Get off him, Yance, Jesus,” Raleigh said, but Yancy pulls back, dragging Chuck out of Raleigh’s reach.

“That’s what I thought,” Yancy says, and there’s something dangerous and gleeful in his tone. “Get on your knees, bitch.” He forces Chuck down.

Raleigh swallows hard, his stomach hurting, because this isn’t right. This isn’t right, it’s wrong, it’s so wrong – it’s so fucking wrong, but his cock doesn’t seem to care. His cock seems to like it. “Yance,” he says, quiet and measured. “Get the fuck away from him.”

“You’re not getting it, Rals,” Yancy says.

“He said he doesn’t want it, so get the fuck away from him!” Raleigh says, shoving forward, forcing Yancy back.

“Raleigh,” Chuck says, and his voice is guttural and needy and it sets Raleigh’s blood on fire. “Let me.”

Raleigh gapes at him.

“Forget let him, _make_ him,” Yancy says. “Make him fucking take it. Make this bitch take your cock. Better yet?” He folds to his knees, pressing against Chuck’s back, and Chuck leans into it, eyes slipping closed. “Make him like it,” Yancy hisses in his ear.

Chuck whimpers.

Raleigh staggers back, not understanding – any of this, at all. “Dude, I’m all for distractions and – uh, escapism, but this is… You played a great series, man, you deserve to –”

Chuck groans his frustration, and Yancy gives a dark laugh. “No, Raleigh, you’re not – this isn’t about what he deserves. This is about what he doesn’t deserve.” He wraps his arm around Chuck’s body, tight as an iron band over his chest. Moves the other hand up to cup his jaw, finger and thumb digging into his cheeks, forcing his mouth open. “Because you beat him. You beat this little bitch, and now you’re gonna make him take your cock, because that’s _exactly_ what he deserves.”

“I can’t –” Raleigh says, choked. “I’m not doing anything he doesn’t want.”

Chuck groans again.

“He’s so nice, right?” Yancy whispers to Chuck. “So sweet. That’s exactly why you came here. Because you’re not. He’s so good, and you’re _worthless_ , sweetheart. You’re fucking trash. And now you’re gonna suck this nice guy’s cock, because he beat you and you can’t even look at yourself in the mirror without gagging, right?”

Chuck nods, eyes closed, brow furrowed. Pained, but… this is nothing new. He’s had these thoughts before.

“That’s why you’ve still got your playoff beard, right?” Yancy said, stroking his stubbled jaw with his ring finger, his index finger and thumb still forcing open Chuck’s mouth. “Couldn’t stand to shave it, see your face in the mirror, knowing what a failure you are?”

Chuck nods, emphatic.

“Good boy, sweetheart,” Yancy said, drawing lazy kisses over the back of his neck. “Such a good little failure. Now you’re gonna suck him off, and he’s gonna come on your face, and then you’re gonna eat it off my fingers. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Chuck chokes out.

“Raleigh?” Yancy says, looking up.

Chuck looks up also, eyes pleading, still so dark and large. “Raleigh,” he whimpers.

Raleigh can’t think. Can’t even move, pinned to the wall behind him with only words.

Chuck starts to reach up to undo his pants, but Yancy slaps his hands away, hard. “Oh, no, no, sweetheart,” he says, cooing. “You need to ask permission. You need to say please. And only when Raleigh says yes can you get those sweet lips around his massive cock, yeah?” He nuzzles the back of Chuck’s neck, oddly gentle.

“Can I?” Chuck says, looking up at him, pleading. “Let me, Rals, yeah?”

“Please,” Yancy growls.

“ _Please_ ,” Chuck says.

Raleigh swallows.

“Look how much he needs it, Raleigh,” Yancy says, and Raleigh looks, but Chuck’s not hard, like, at all. “No, here,” Yancy says, shaking Chuck’s face.

And Raleigh looks, and. Yeah, Chuck needs this. His expression is broken and his eyes are pleading and he needs it _bad_. “Okay,” Raleigh says. “Okay, you can.”

Instantly, Chuck is tearing at his pants, so forcefully that Raleigh’s worried for the state of his junk. But he gets his cock out without incident, and moves towards it before pausing, going cross-eyed looking at it.

“Right?” Yancy says. “It’s huge, yeah? I want you to get that whole fucking thing down your throat. I want you to be nose-deep in his fucking pubes, Hansen. Do it.” He slaps the back of Chuck’s head. “And you better not use any teeth.”

“Yancy, you don’t have to – oh,” Raleigh breathes out, as Chuck sucks his cock into his mouth.

Chuck sets a quick, sloppy pace, and Raleigh’s head knocks back into the wall because Chuck is so fucking hungry for it, taking him so deep in that hot, sweet mouth. His mouth is incredible.

“Oh, fuck,” Raleigh says, already breathless.

“Hear that?” Yancy says. “Keep it up.”

Chuck puts his hands on Raleigh’s hips and digs in, and oh, Raleigh hopes that Yancy doesn’t make him remove them. He likes their weight there, the strength of his grip – he can feel each individual fingertip.

But Yancy doesn’t say anything, just presses tight against Chuck’s back and mouths at his neck. “Is that the best you can do, Hansen?” he says.

_No complaints here_ , Raleigh thinks, but Chuck takes it as the challenge it is, taking Raleigh’s cock deep before pulling off. He does it again, over and over, bobbing his head on Raleigh’s dick, and there are these wet noises and it’s so fucking hot Raleigh could actually die.

But Yancy doesn’t seem as satisfied. “I want you to take him all the way,” he says.

Chuck sinks down, and he gets about three quarters of the way down before his throat clenches up on him. He pulls back, shaking his head. “I –“

“You can’t?” Yancy says. “I think you can.”

Chuck tries again, and reaches the same point before he chokes, tears springing up in his eyes. He shakes his head minutely and moves to draw back.

“No, all the way,” Yancy growls, and cradles the back of Chuck’s head in his splayed hand, forcing him forward.

“Yance –” Raleigh starts, warningly, but Yancy ignores him.

“You’re gonna do this,” Yancy says, and Chuck gives a choked sobbing noise, his throat convulsing around Raleigh’s cock, gagging on it. And then Yancy says, “Or are you gonna fail at this, too?”

And then Chuck’s throat just – relaxes. All at once. He sinks down around Raleigh’s cock like a sheath, his whole cock encased in slick heat, Chuck’s nose pressed against his pelvis.

Raleigh pants, trembling. “Oh fuck, oh god, oh my fucking god,” he says hoarsely.

“Good boy,” Yancy says, and lets Chuck draw back. He pulls off the way off, giving a wet-sounding cough into his hands.

“Look up at Raleigh for me, would you?” Yancy says in Chuck’s ear.

Chuck looks up for a second. His eyes are leaking tears and his nose is running and slick saliva coats his chin, and when Raleigh sees it his face must do something because Chuck instantly drops his gaze, trying to shake his sweaty bangs over his eyes.

“No, sweetheart, you’re gonna look at him. You’re gonna let him see what he’s done to you.” Yancy puts his fingers under Chuck’s chin and tips his face up.

“You’re beautiful,” Raleigh says, and he means it, he really, really means it.

Chuck chokes, though, sounding almost ill, and Yancy rolls his eyes. “I swear to fuck, Rals, am I gonna have to gag you? You’re supposed to tell him the truth, bro, that he’s your bitch, that you own him, that he’s gonna choke on your cock and he’ll like it.”

Chuck shudders. He takes Raleigh’s cock back in his mouth, though, laving his tongue over the tip, just the right pressure over the head to make Raleigh squirm. Then he takes Raleigh deep again, sucking hard.

“That this is what winners get to do when they beat the President’s Cup holders,” Yancy whispers. “How many shots on goal, Chuck? And, oh yeah – what was your plus-minus?”

“Yance, that’s too far,” Raleigh says, but his voice wavers because oh, the way Chuck’s throat clenched when Yancy said that.

“Is it?” Yancy says, almost lazy. He cards back Chuck’s hair. “That’s rough, because Chuck can’t think about anything else, can you, sweetheart?”

Chuck shakes his head.

“Poor baby,” Yancy says, and he rocks against Chuck’s lower back. Raleigh belatedly realizes that Yancy’s probably pretty fucking hard too. “Poor little bitch.” His next thrust nearly pushes Chuck forward into Raleigh, but he catches himself in time.

Chuck swirls his tongue around the head of Raleigh’s cock, then paints designs on the underside and flicks his tongue into the slit.

Raleigh moans. “Oh shit, I’m – fuck, yeah, yeah, just like that.”

Chuck echoes his moan, muffled into Raleigh’s dick. He reaches down to grind against his own palm, but Yancy grabs his wrist before he can get there, and Chuck groans his frustration.

“Oh no, sweetheart, you don’t get to touch yourself,” Yancy says, practically cooing in his ear. “You don’t deserve it, do you? Losers don’t deserve to be rewarded, right?”

“He can –” Raleigh says.

“I swear I will gag you,” Yancy says. “Take his cock, sweetheart.”

Chuck sucks with renewed vigor, and he’s clearly working to finish Raleigh off, a relentless assault on the sensitive nerves of the head. Then he sucks Raleigh down again, cheeks hollowing out, eyes downcast.

“C’mon, c’mon, yeah, Raleigh, come in his mouth, make him swallow you, make him take it,” Yancy says, and his eyes are fever-bright as he watches Chuck’s throat work over Raleigh’s cock. He turns his head, biting at Chuck’s jaw. “At least you’re good at this, sweetheart, if nothing else.”

Chuck’s throat convulses at that, and Raleigh’s orgasm is torn out of him. He moans through it, hips jerking as he comes in Chuck’s mouth, and Chuck just swallows it all, swallows it and looks up at him like he wants more.

Raleigh collapses back against the wall, breathing hard like it’s the third fucking overtime and his team’s on the penalty kill. “Fuck,” he says.

“I forgot to have him come on your face,” Yancy says to Chuck. He half rises in order to reach a dishtowel on the counter, handing it to Chuck and allowing him to wipe the tears and spit from his face. “Next time, I guess.”

Chuck flinches, and Yancy looks almost… sad as he combs his fingers through Chuck’s hair.

“Maybe you’ll win next time,” Raleigh says, which is admittedly kind of dumb, but still doesn’t deserve the identical expression of incredulity and judgment he gets from both of them.

“Christ, Rals,” Yancy says, shaking his head. “How long till you can get hard again?”

Raleigh flushes. “I, uh… 10 minutes? Fifteen?”

“Good,” Yancy says soft in Chuck’s ear. “You’re gonna go wait in Raleigh’s bed for him until he’s ready. Maybe we’ll watch some ESPN, play a round of NHL ’14… Maybe we’ll go out for celebratory burgers, or something. And you’re gonna wait for him the whole time like a good little bitch, naked, on your hands and knees. And you’re not gonna touch yourself.” He palms Chuck’s cock, and Chuck’s eyes nearly roll back into his head in sweet relief.

“Yance…” Raleigh says.

“I was thinking about having him take you dry, no prep,” Yancy says conversationally as he grips Chuck’s cock through his suit pants and pumps in a rhythm. “Making it hurt. But that’s what you want, right? You want it to hurt.”

Chuck nods, head tipping back to land on Yancy’s shoulder, hips rolling forward into his grip.

Yancy presses a kiss to the side of his neck and keeps murmuring, soft and sibilant, “So I think he’s gonna prep you until you’re begging for his cock. He’s gonna finger you open until you’re all wet and loose like a girl, and then he’s gonna fuck you sweet and slow, and you’re gonna love it.”

Chuck moans.

“You’re gonna have to say please, though,” Yancy says. “Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Can you say – please, Raleigh Becket, I want your cock?”

Chuck shakes his head, drawing his brows together.

“I’m not gonna make him do that,” Raleigh says.

“He’s gonna do it anyway,” Yancy says, “isn’t that right?” He lets go of Chuck’s dick and Chuck gives a whimper at the sudden loss. “Now go wait in his bed.” He slaps Chuck’s ass.

Chuck’s knees are clearly sore and stiff when he stands, but when Raleigh tries to help him he just snarls and slaps his hand away. He stumbles out of the room.

Raleigh stares after him. He rubs his jaw. “Yance,” he says, and Yancy looks up at him. He hasn’t moved either, stayed on his knees watching Chuck leave. “This is – How do you even…?”

Yancy smiles wryly. “C’mon, Rals. I’m on the Sabres. You really think this is new for me?” He stands and walks out of the room. A moment later, Raleigh’s shitty couch springs squeak.

Raleigh stares after him now. He swallows hard. Eats a handful of popcorn just to have something to do with his hands. It’s gone cold and the butter’s congealed into a slimy film over it.

Feels appropriate, for some stupid reason.

 

 

When Raleigh wakes up later, he’s sore and sticky all over, and the bed is empty next to him. It’s not a surprise, exactly, only he kind of hoped…

But maybe this means Chuck got what he needed. Maybe he can heal now, without Raleigh’s dick involved.

Raleigh flops onto his back and rubs his hand over his face. That should be a good thing, he reminds himself. He wants Chuck to feel better.

But if Chuck felt better _and_ Raleigh’s dick was involved, that’d be the best of all worlds, he admits to himself. That’d be… That’d be fantastic.

He needs a glass of water, so he staggers up, pulling on his abandoned boxer briefs, and goes to get one. But down the hall, he hears a noise from the guest room. The door’s open, and he peers inside, and… Oh.

In the darkness, it’s hard to tell whose limbs are where, exactly. As his eyes adjust, Raleigh can see that Chuck’s on his back, Yancy between his legs, fucking into him slowly, so slowly, each roll of his hips sinuous and smooth. Chuck’s got his legs wrapped around Yancy’s back and his arms around his neck. There’s tear tracks down his cheeks, glinting in the dim light.

And Yancy’s whispering to him. Things like “You’re so fucking beautiful” and “There’s not a team in the league who wouldn’t pay out the ass to have you” and “Oh sweetheart, yes, yes, you’re so good, sweetheart, you’re so good…”

For a moment, Raleigh’s angry. Infused with red-hot rage, because why does Yancy get to say those things to Chuck? Why does he get to be gentle, when Raleigh had to fuck him like an animal and call him his bitch?

And then he thinks, _you dumbass_.

Because Yancy didn’t beat Chuck. Because Yancy’s team didn’t even make the fucking playoffs. Because Yancy didn’t just face him on the ice and win, because Yancy’s team isn’t going to the Eastern Conference Finals.

Because Yancy isn’t Raleigh.

So Raleigh leaves, padding away, mindful of every creak in the floorboards.

Next year, Hansen, he thinks.

Next year’ll be a whole new ballgame.


End file.
